


we got a minefield of crippled affection

by likewinning



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Minor Drug Use, RPF, sebastian stan is ruining my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Chris has a bad habit of sleeping with his roommates, and Sebastian is his new roommate. Or: in which Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan eat a lot of breakfast food and pine after each other stupidly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we got a minefield of crippled affection

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Broken Social Scene.

_So, I found a new roommate_ , Chris texts his brother. He's cooking dinner, or pouring cereal in a bowl, so he sets his phone down for a second before it buzzes again.

_Guy or a girl?_

_Guy_ , Chris texts back. He moves over to the couch and flips the TV on, and it's a couple minutes before Scott answers.

_Hey, don't fuck this one, okay?_

Chris scowls, offended. Okay, so he has a habit of sleeping with his roommates, or as the case has been, roommates' significant others. In the past five years, Chris has moved more times than he can count. But this time, after Gina left in the middle of the night while Chris was at work, he got to keep his place. So really, he’s moving up in the world.

 _I did say guy_ , Chris texts back. _Definitely more your type than mine._

 _Tenth grade_ , Scott texts back. Chris conveniently loses his phone to the couch cushion for a while. He thinks he should be able to eat his goddamn Fruity Pebbles in peace without being interrogated.

*

Really, though, Sebastian's the ideal roommate for Chris. For one thing, he's hardly ever around –they work opposite shifts, and Sebastian has a girlfriend or whatever in the city that he sees a lot. Chris and Sebastian mainly see each other in the afternoons, when Sebastian is just getting home from work and Chris is just waking up. It requires little conversation on either of their parts outside of, "Hey, how's it going?"

Basically, it's like Chris lives by himself, except sometimes there's another person's food in his fridge.

They don't really have a full day together until Sebastian's been there a week or so. Chris wakes up to the sound of Sebastian shouting at someone – at first, Chris thinks he's in that tunnel of just-woke-up and that's why he can't understand a word Sebastian's saying, but then he realizes that he's actually speaking another language.

Huh. That's interesting.

Chris doesn't want to eavesdrop, so he decides to go cook himself some breakfast – okay, pour a bowl of Fruity Pebbles – like nothing's going on. Sebastian sees him, and lowers his voice. "I have to go," Sebastian says to whoever's on the phone. His face is flushed, Chris sees, and his hair's a mess like he's been tugging at it.

When he hangs up, Sebastian walks over to Chris in the kitchen. "Sorry, man," he says. "Did I wake you up?"

Chris shrugs. "It's cool," he says. "I was wondering when you'd show your terrible roommate side. What was that, Russian?"

Sebastian ducks his head, looking sheepish. "Romanian," he says.

"Cool," Chris says. He's lucky if he can speak English most of the time. He decides not to ask Sebastian what all the yelling was about, even though the nosy part of him kind of wants to, just shakes the box of Fruity Pebbles at him and asks, "Breakfast?"

Sebastian makes a face. "Dude," he says.

"What?"

"You've gotta think about eating like a grown-up."

"Hey," Chris says. "I'm grown up. There's at least four colors of fruit in here."

Sebastian says nothing, just shakes his head and starts pulling things out of the cabinet and the refrigerator: a frying pan, plates, a carton of eggs, butter, cheese. Using some kind of magic, or maybe just basic culinary skills, soon enough Sebastian sets a plate of eggs in front of him, along with a side of toast.

"Really?" Chris asks. People have cooked for him before, but most of the people he's lived with have been more of the _let's get really stoned and order an extra large pizza_ sort of roommates. Which Chris kind of expected Sebastian to be, actually.

"I woke you up," Sebastian says, handing Chris a fork. "And besides, for someone who looks like you do, you eat like shit."

Chris grins. "And how do I look?" he asks.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, starting in on his own food. He gestures his fork at Chris's neck. "Like someone attacked you with a vacuum cleaner."

"Ah," Chris says. He rubs at his neck, where he knows there are a string of hickeys from a lovely, enthusiastic girl he met at the bar last night. Considering how good the girl was with her hands, Chris figures that's a fair trade off for looking like baby's first hickey for a couple of days. "That's a good story," Chris says.

"I'm sure I don't need to know," Sebastian says, but Chris tells him anyway, in between bites of fucking amazing food. They talk for a while as Chris helps Sebastian clean up, about their jobs, their families, all the things Chris didn't bother to ask when he interviewed Sebastian for the apartment and his only questions were _do you have a job?_ And _how soon can you move in?_

Chris does most of the talking, really, but Sebastian laughs in the right places, and Chris finds himself thinking the guy should smile more often because – yeah. It's a good look on him.

"Thanks," Chris says, once everything's cleaned up. "You should do that for a living," he adds, and Sebastian shakes his head. "You really have been deprived of real food, haven't you?"

"My last roommate was more interested in fucking me than making breakfast," Chris says, because he apparently has no filter. Sebastian's eyebrows shoot up. "You didn't mention that was on the table when you interviewed me," he says, and Chris is 95% sure he's kidding, but there's this tilt to his lips that kind of makes Chris wonder if he's 5% _not_.

"It's not," Chris says, a little unsteadily. "My brother strictly forbids it. And I'm not into guys, so…"

"Your brother already forbade you to sleep with me?"

Chris laughs. "Not you specifically. Just… I have a history."

"Ah," Sebastian says. "You know, when I moved in there was still a pair of panties hanging over the shower in the bathroom."

"Yeah," Chris says. "My last roommate kind of left in a hurry."

"Should I be worried?" Sebastian asks, definitely kidding now. Chris is thinking about making it his new life goal to make this guy smile a lot, because it's – yeah.

"Hey, I'm not a serial killer or something," Chris says.

"Neither am I," Sebastian says.

"So we've got nothin' to worry about."

"Unless one of us is lying," Sebastian points out.

"Whatever, dude. You're the one from Dracula's home country."

Sebastian laughs again, and Chris counts that as a win.

*

After that, Chris sees a little more of Sebastian. They still work opposite shifts – Sebastian at the bagel place three blocks from the apartment, Chris at the bar a little further down the street – but sometimes when Chris gets home they pass each other by and Sebastian offers him a tired, easy smile and says, "Hey, I made pancakes," or whatever the breakfast item of the day is. Sebastian never looks like he eats much himself, but he's some kind of genius in the kitchen. Chris is lucky if he can function well enough to brush his damn _teeth_ when he wakes up in the afternoon, but he tries to return the favor – booze from the bar, or just a pack of Sebastian's favorite brand of cigarettes.

Mid-afternoons, if neither one of them has plans, they veg out on the couch and watch whatever the other one DVR'd the night before. Occasionally they'll smoke a bowl together, but Chris gets too paranoid sometimes, so mostly they take it easy.

"So listen," Sebastian says one afternoon. They're watching _SVU_ , or _CSU_ , Chris can never keep track of crime dramas but Sebastian seems to love them. "My idiot friends want me to have a housewarming party."

Chris looks over at him, but Sebastian keeps his gaze on the TV; Chris has noticed, more than once, that Sebastian is kind of shy sometimes. "They know you don't actually live in a house, right?"

"Yeah," Sebastian says. "It's mostly an excuse for them to get wasted and trash someone else's place for a change. But I told them I'd ask you, since it's your apartment."

 _It's yours, too_ , Chris wants to say, but he doesn't know how to say it without it coming out corny. Still, he likes living with Sebastian; he's a decent guy, never any trouble, and he cooks food fit for gods. He's a keeper, as far as roommates go.

All of that sounds potentially whacko to Chris, so he just grins at Sebastian and says, "Hey, I like parties."

Actually, he hates them. His anxiety always goes on overdrive and he gets claustrophobic and usually ends up drinking and/or smoking way, way too much. But Sebastian looks over at him finally, and his eyes light up with that shy little smile, and Chris figures one party won't actually kill him.

*

Chris pretty much lets Sebastian handle everything for the party, except for the booze. Even though Sebastian says his friends are dumb hipsters who wouldn't know good food if it hit them in the face, he and his friend Emily spend hours in the kitchen making snacks and all kinds of things that they enlist Chris's help in taste-testing. Which he's useless at, anyway, because _everything_ is good.

It's a decent party, all things considered. Sebastian's friends aren't as bad as he described, and they seem to get along okay with Chris's friends. There's music and food and drinking games and despite telling himself not to Chris gets very, very drunk.

It's Scarlett's fault, though. She _knows_ he's terrible at drinking games, and she forces him to play anyway, until the room spins a bit and someone's talking in his ear and it takes him longer than it should to realize it's Sebastian.

"Huh?" Chris asks, eloquently. He turns his head, and Sebastian's smiling at him, kind of dopey like he must be pretty drunk, too. Chris can work with that.

"I said," Sebastian says, "You look like you could use a breather."

"Oh," Chris says. He looks around, and everyone's off doing their own stuff, talking and laughing and at some point he'll probably have to pull Mackie off the coffee table, but not just yet. "Yeah, definitely."

He follows Sebastian out onto the balcony, which is thankfully free of people. He hasn't used the balcony much himself since living here. Gina spent the last few months of their roommate/relationship out here, on the days when she couldn't stand the sight of him, and he knows this is where Sebastian comes to smoke, but Chris usually prefers his room when he wants to get away. That's currently being used as a coatroom slash fuckpad, though, so that's not really an option.

Sebastian lights a cigarette, then offers the pack to Chris, but Chris shakes his head. His body's humming enough with the booze, and he hasn't smoked since he lived with Jackie.

"You all right?" Sebastian asks, exhaling smoke. He leans on the balcony railing, close to Chris but still a good amount of space between them.

"Yeah," Chris says. He smiles, hopes it's convincing. His heart rate feels like it's slowing down out here, at least. "I just get kinda – overwhelmed."

"I noticed," Sebastian says, but not like he minds, more like – well, Chris noticed he wasn't exactly the life of the party, either. "You didn't have to say yes, you know," he adds, flicking some ashes off his cigarette. 

"I know," Chris says. "Don't worry about it. Your friends are cool, man."

Sebastian snorts. "They're losers," he says, "but thanks." He smiles at Chris, and Chris knows he doesn't mean thanks for that, but the whole thing. Chris swallows, nods. He's drunk, and he doesn't go for guys much but Sebastian's – really pretty, with the porch light hitting his features in all the right places and the smoke curling from his lips.

"Where'd Emily go?" he asks, grasping for something solid that will make his drunk brain focus. He likes Emily. She's pretty, and sweet, and funny as hell, and he'd totally be trying to fuck her if he hadn't promised Scott he's turning over a new leaf, or whatever. 

"She had to go, her band has practice early tomorrow," Sebastian says. He looks a little amused at the sudden change of subject, but Chris has been told he's a quirky drunk. He stubs out his cigarette and adds, "She said she'd come back and help us clean up tomorrow if we want, though."

"Wow," Chris says, because Sebastian's friends are okay and all, but the place is already trashed. "I think I'm gonna steal her from you."

Sebastian laughs, and it's kind of quiet and smoky and Chris might need to get back inside, away from that until drunk-brain gets its shit together. "I've been warned that's a thing that happens," Sebastian says, and Chris winces. "Fuckin' Mackie," Chris says.

"Yeah," Sebastian says. He's standing too close, and Chris wants another drink and someone's hands on his dick, in that order. "I know all your secrets now, man."

"Then I guess you're not allowed to leave," Chris says. 

Sebastian licks his lips, says, "I wasn't planning on it." Then he pulls back a little, and smirks at Chris. "Em would never fuck you, though, fair warning."

Chris doesn't say he's heard that one before, even though he has. He just laughs and changes the subject, and they spend the next hour on the balcony trading stories about their dumb friends. Chris is still horny as hell, but he figures it's just the alcohol and he'll knock one out once everyone leaves. It's fine.

He's mid-story about the time Mackie tried to convince everyone he was related to Kanye when the balcony door slides open and Scarlett says, "Hey, assholes, all your guests are leaving and you're not standing at the door telling them thank you for coming."

They both give her their most sheepish looks and slink back inside, where the party is in fact winding down – except for Mackie, who seems to be having his own private karaoke session, topless, on top of the coffee table.

"Come on, idiot," Scarlett says, dragging Mackie off the table. "This isn't tenth grade."

"Damn right, I never could've pulled anyone like you back then," Mackie says, and Chris catches Scarlett blushing like she's not sure whether to be annoyed or flattered.

She and Mackie are the last to leave, standing at the door to talk to Chris while Sebastian fusses with the stereo and then collapses onto the couch.

Scarlett looks over at Sebastian, then Chris. "Hey," she says, quiet so only Chris can hear. "Don't fuck this one, okay? I like him."

Chris sighs. "Why does everyone think I'm gonna fuck him? I don't even really like guys."

"New Years, 2009," Scarlett says, at the same time that Mackie pipes up, "Renner's wedding."

"Fuck you both," Chris says, but he kisses Scarlett on the cheek and hugs Mackie, and when he shuts the door and turns back toward the living room, Sebastian is passed out on the couch. Chris grabs a blanket from beneath the mess of napkins and plastic cups and tucks it over Sebastian before he heads to his own room. He jerks himself off with slow, easy strokes and doesn't think about anything at all. He falls asleep to the sound of Sebastian breathing in the other room.

*

He wakes up to the smell of grease. So much grease, he's pretty sure the house is on fire and he just hasn't heard the alarm yet. He rolls over in bed, deciding he doesn't particularly care, but then he remembers he doesn't live alone anymore, so he gets up. He figures letting your roommate die in a fire is probably worse than fucking them.

Chris finds Sebastian in the kitchen, piling slice after slice of bacon onto two plates. "Hey," Chris says, half a question. It's one in the afternoon, but Sebastian looks like he just got up, too – his hair's a mess, and he's just dressed in boxers and his t-shirt from last night. His legs, Chris notices, are kind of thin and funny-looking.

"Hey," Sebastian says, turning his head to look at Chris. He offers him a sleepy smile, and when Chris raises an eyebrow, he explains, "Grease is my anti-hangover."

Chris laughs at him. "Dude, what are you, 24? You need to up your game." He grabs a piece of bacon off his plate and shoves it in his mouth.

"You're telling me you're not hungover?" Sebastian asks.

"Nope," Chris says. He is, a little, but mostly because he didn't smoke at all – it always fucks him up more, but leaves him feeling better later on.

"What are you, made of iron?" Sebastian asks. "Do you even remember last night?"

"Not really," Chris lies again. He remembers spending way too much time looking at Sebastian's mouth, and just a lot of time with Sebastian in general. "I remember Mackie singing the theme song from _Friends_ at some point…"

"Yeah," Sebastian says. He's looking at Chris kind of weird, but Chris just figures he has stuff on his face or bad hair, or something. "He said he knew the words to every theme song ever made. You've got some interesting friends."

Sebastian starts in on his food, somehow managing to make the process of shoving grease in his mouth look less disgusting than Chris does. "Scarlett's great, though," Sebastian adds.

"Yeah," Chris says, "She is."

"Have you two…" Sebastian starts, then sort of trails off.

"No," Chris says, a little too quickly. "I mean, not for lack of trying, but…"

"You guys were never roommates, huh?" Sebastian asks, smirking.

" _Hey_ ," Chris says, but he grins back. "I resent that, man. I haven't tried to fuck you _once._."

Sebastian doesn't say anything. His smirk disappears, and he sort of looks away, over Chris's shoulder. Chris feels like a jackass. "There's coffee, too," Sebastian says, tilting his head toward the coffee pot. "I wasn't sure how you take yours."

"You're beautiful, man," Chris says, and he means it because he loves coffee and people who make it for him, but Sebastian smiles and avoids his gaze, turning to clean up their plates.

"So, nothing about last night?" Sebastian asks, when Chris has coffee and the rest of breakfast is cleaned up. Sebastian drinks the fancy European shit and Chris made fun of him at first, but he's beginning to understand that there's coffee and then there's _coffee_.

Chris gulps his coffee, burns his tongue, and then says, "Nah. I mean, I was pretty far gone. Sorry if I did anything stupid." He pauses to consider, then says, "Wait, is that why you're asking? Did I do something stupid?"

Sebastian laughs. He leans back against the counter, head down. There's stubble on his cheeks and his shirt's kind of wet from washing the dishes. His feet are bare, and Chris notices that his toes are kind of freakishly long. He wonders if Sebastian is one of those people who can write with their toes or whatever.

He might still be a little drunk.

"No," Sebastian says. "Nothing stupider than usual, anyway."

" _Hey_ ," Chris says again.

"I mean, you did say you wanted to fuck Emily," Sebastian points out.

"Right," Chris says. That conversation is sort of coming back to him. "Sorry about that. When I drink, my filter gets sort of – non-existent."

"That's all right," Sebastian says. He steals some of Chris's coffee, then winces at the taste. "I'm told when I drink a lot I start, uh, clinging to people, so I guess you missed out on that."

"What?" Chris asks. "Like a monkey on a tree?"

"Not exactly," Sebastian says. "You've ruined a perfectly good cup of coffee, by the way," he says.

"What can I say? I like sugar."

"You're like a five-year-old, man."

"A five year old with incredible abs," Chris points out. Sebastian pokes him in the stomach, apparently just to be a dick. "They're all right," Sebastian says, and then Chris tightens his stomach muscles and Sebastian says, "Ugh, okay, fuck you, man."

"See? Incredible," Chris says, laughing. Sebastian heads out for a smoke, and Chris checks his phone. There are two texts from Mackie, one, asking if Chris has seen his Batman t-shirt – he left topless last night – and the other, telling him not to fuck Sebastian.

 _Don't worry_ , Chris texts. _I'll set a reminder in my phone for 8AM every day so you people don't have to keep telling me._

Sebastian comes back inside, and joins Chris on the couch. The place is still a mess from last night, but Chris needs at least two more cups of coffee before he can deal with that.

"You working tonight?" Sebastian asks.

"Yeah," Chris says. "Around 10."

"Cool," Sebastian says, and then looks kind of embarrassed for using that word. My god, what would his hipster friends think? "I was thinking about stopping over."

Chris grins. He loves getting visits at work, except when it’s Scarlett because she gets offended when Chris kindly requests that she put her boobs away because she's distracting people from thinking he's hot and tipping _him_. "Yeah, man, you should."

"Awesome," Sebastian says. He reaches for the remote and flips on the TV. "My friend Crista says I have to introduce you guys."

"Oh," Chris says. He tries not to sound weird, or disappointed or anything, but that wasn't – what he was thinking. Still, it's not like he's dating anyone, and if last night was any indication he definitely needs to get laid. "Yeah," he says. "Great."

 _Chris and Crista_ , he thinks. Gross.

*

It's near the end of Chris's shift at the bar when Sebastian shows up. Chris pretty much feels like dying; it's Sunday night, and he and Sebastian (and Emily, who Chris is slightly in love with) spent most of the late afternoon cleaning up the apartment. He's two Redbulls and a shot of Jack in, and his heart is already pounding when he sees the girl Sebastian brought with him.

Chris takes back every disparaging thought about Crista's name because fuck, she's beautiful. Long dark hair and big brown eyes, kind of tall and long legs and Chris is pretty much picturing those legs wrapped around his shoulders before anyone even speaks.

"Well, damn," Crista says, and her voice sounds like smoke and whiskey and Chris starts pouring shots before Crista and Sebastian even sit down. "You undersold him," Crista says to Sebastian. "Your picture doesn't do any kind of justice."

Chris looks at Sebastian. He's changed since this afternoon, into another tight t-shirt and probably tighter jeans, since apparently he doesn't want kids ever. His hair looks great, and he still hasn't shaved, but Chris is one to talk because he decided it's time to let the beard out again.

"You sent her pictures of me?" Chris asks.

"Just one," Sebastian says. "She didn't believe me when I said I came home to find you eating a salad bowl full of Cocoa Puffs."

Chris wants to be mad, but Crista's laugh is pretty fucking hot, and Sebastian looks so adorable about it that he shrugs it off. "And you still wanted to meet me?" he asks Crista.

"What can I say?" Crista downs her drink in one gulp, only gasping a little. "I like a guy with a sweet tooth."

Sebastian chokes on his drink, and Chris feels his dick getting hard, and this is totally not work appropriate. "Sebastian, get outta my face for a bit, okay?" Chris asks. "I've got other customers."

Crista laughs again, and then she puts her hand on Sebastian's shoulder and says, "Come on, babe, dance with me." 

Sebastian grimaces, but waves to Chris and they head out to the dance floor. Chris watches them for about a second before he sees Sebastian trip on his own feet. Apparently Sebastian can't dance for shit, which doesn't entirely surprise Chris – he's seen the guy walk into doors before.

They're still hot, though. When Chris looks up again ten minutes later, Crista's dancing with another guy and Sebastian's heading back toward him. "I've been sent back," he says. "I'm not surprised," Chris answers, pouring him another drink.

"Whatever," Sebastian says. "Like you're any better."

"Man," Chris says, "I've got moves like you can't imagine."

Sebastian does that thing where he looks slightly to the left of Chris again. Then he gestures back to Crista, where she's grinding on some other guy. "So, do you want her to have your babies or whatever?"

"Uh," Chris says, eloquent as always. _I want her to fuck me sideways_ , Chris thinks, but he figures that's gross and rude to say, so he says, "She seems nice."

"She's not," Sebastian says. He sips at his drink, then adds, "But she threatened to post pictures of me on Facebook wearing a hot dog costume if I didn't introduce you guys, so…"

"Wow," Chris says. "Halloween?"

"I wish," Sebastian says.

"So, have you guys…"Chris starts, all too aware he's turning the question from earlier around.

"A few times," Sebastian admits. Chris figured he'd blush a bit or something, but he seems prepared for the question. He tilts his glass to his mouth again. "Is that gonna be a problem?"

"No," Chris says. It is weird, but not a deal breaker – most of him and his friends have been with each other or each other's friends; it just sort of happens that way. "I mean, my dick has basically been all over our apartment, anyway, so it's not so different."

"Wow," Sebastian deadpans, staring at him. "I'm moving out."

"Please don't," Chris says. "If Mackie wins the pool he said he'd take me to Mardi Gras with him next year."

"Your friends have a bet on how long we'll be roommates?" Sebastian asks. "You really are a serial killer, aren't you?"

Chris grimaces. He's not _proud_ of any of this. It just happens, and he's learned to make light of it. He doesn't mention that the bet is less about the longevity of them being roommates and more about if they sleep together, just says, "Nope. Just an asshole."

Sebastian finishes his drink, shakes his head. "I haven't seen that yet."

"Just wait," Chris says. "Preferably past three months, because then Mackie wins by default."

"I changed my mind. Your friends are dicks," Sebastian says, standing up. "Speaking of which, I'm leaving you in charge of mine to take home later. Strictly as a gentleman, of course."

"Right," Chris says, nodding, then frowns. "You're going?"

"Early shift tomorrow," Sebastian says. "And I, uh, want to see if Em's still up."

"Yeah?" Chris asks, grinning crookedly. Sebastian and Em never stay at his and Chris's place if they do the sleepover thing, and Chris has always figured it's because they have really loud sex. Either that, or their place is such a mess that Emily wants nothing to do with it.

"Yeah," Sebastian says. "So, uh, I'll see you tomorrow, man."

"Yeah," Chris says again. He watches Sebastian say goodbye to Crista, checking out his ass in those jeans in the process because fuck it, he's allowed to look. Then he helps actual customers for a while until he spots Crista coming off the dance floor. She grins at him and her lipstick is kind of smudged and smeared from sweating and her hair's all messed up but Chris still thinks she's gorgeous. "Hey," she says. "So, I can totally take a cab home if you feel like Sebastian just threw you at me. I mean, I kind of asked him to, but not so he'd actually _leave_."

Chris laughs. "It's okay," Chris says. "I promised Sebastian I'd be a gentleman with you. Just give me like ten minutes and then we can go, okay?"

"Okay," Crista says. "Great."

And it is great, except Chris is a total fucking liar. He's got two fingers in her during the cab ride back to her place and she's panting in his ear and upstairs at her place they're barely inside before he's sliding up her dress and she's got his pants open and a condom on him, and then he's in her and it's so, so good and she's wet and hot and he wants to make her scream, and he does, and he shudders and comes too fast too hard, like it's been building up for days.

They go again in the morning, after Chris gets a text from Sebastian calling him a horrible liar with a winky face, and it's softer this time, but still intense. She twists her hands in his hair, grabbing at him when he goes down on her, and he drops her his number before he heads on home.

*

By the time Chris gets back to their apartment, Sebastian is already gone for the morning, and Chris goes back to sleep. He wakes up to the sound of shouting, not for the first time.

At first, Chris thinks Sebastian's having a fight in Romanian again, but on closer listen it's not shouts of pain, but pleasure, and Sebastian is just moaning _that hard._

Wow. 

Chris doesn't like to be nosy, but he is definitely interested. He can hear, too, Em murmuring soft, breathy little pants, but much louder is Sebastian saying, "Fuck, baby, _please_ ," over and over, and Chris is still a mess from two rounds with Crista, but before he knows it he's got his hand wrapped around his dick because _fuck_ , they sound hot. Chris can just picture how hard Sebastian's giving it to her, can hear the bed creaking under them, can practically smell the sex. He bets they look so fucking good together, and then he imagines Sebastian making that sound underneath him, and –

"Oh, fuck," Chris says, and he comes, just seconds after Sebastian letting out a last," _Baby_."

Jesus.

As soon as he cleans himself up, Chris is awake and in the shower, because he cannot let things like this happen to him.

*

He waits until he hears Emily leaving to come out of his room. He's showered and dressed now, and absolutely starving, so he heads to the kitchen and tries not to look too obviously at Sebastian's room.

He's not gonna make this a thing. Chris gets the coffee pot going and finds a box of cereal hidden behind a couple of boxes of rice that Sebastian must have brought home recently. He's mid-way through his second bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, standing at the kitchen counter to eat, when Sebastian comes out of his room.

"Mornin'," Chris says. It's almost 3, but whatever. Sebastian's hair is still wet from the shower, and when he comes into the kitchen Chris can smell soap and shampoo and the cologne Sebastian uses. He smells great. Mackie is going to lose his bet.

"Hey," Sebastian says. He takes the cup of coffee Chris set out for him – black, no sugar, because Sebastian is some kind of lunatic – with a nod of thanks. "So, Crista just texted me. It sounds like you had fun last night," he says.

Chris grins. "Hey, I'm not the only one."

"Sorry," Sebastian says. He doesn't particularly look it. He looks like he just got fucked and enjoyed every second of it. "She met up with me after work and we just, uh –"

Chris holds up a hand. "Don't apologize for having good sex, man. I've lived with people before." Of course, usually he doesn't get to hear anyone fucking because he's usually right in the middle of it. That's new.

"Yeah," Sebastian says. He sets his coffee down and grabs a bagel from the bag on the counter, pops it in the toaster. Chris watches him, the way his shirt rides up a little when he reaches for a water glass from the cabinet, the careful way he steps around Chris to get to the sink.

"You gonna see her again?" Sebastian asks.

Chris nods. "We're going out before I go into work tonight."

Sebastian nods, and then starts in on his toast. There's a mark on his neck that Chris is 100% sure is a hickey, and before Chris can think better of it, he puts his thumb on it. Sebastian freezes mid-chew, raises an eyebrow at him. "Nice decoration," Chris says.

"Thanks," Sebastian says. Chris feels his pulse leap up under his thumb, but he keeps his eyes steady on Chris, teases, "You jealous?" and Chris pulls back. He clears his throat, looks away. Chris knows Sebastian meant is he jealous of the hickey, not – but his brain and his dick are sort of having an argument about it.

Christ.

He looks at Sebastian again, and there's a crumb on his lips from the toast. He's got that weird look on his face again and Chris wants to ask, but he can't.

Instead, he asks, "How come you guys didn't just move in together?"

Sebastian blinks like the question came out of nowhere, but then he shrugs. "It's not really like that, man."

"No?" Chris asks. He was sort of under the impression they'd been together a while, that eventually he'd end up looking for a new roommate.

"Not at all," Sebastian says. "I mean, I love her to death, but it's not – we've never been an actual couple. We haven't even slept together in years until today," he admits. "It's more like…"

"Friends with benefits?" Chris suggests. Sebastian makes a face. "I hate that expression, but yeah, sure. Em's great, but we're really just friends. I mean, she's gonna run away with her band and leave pretty soon. Why would she keep me around?"

Chris grins. He's heard Emily sing, heard her band once or twice when Sebastian played him their stuff. They're pretty good. "Well, you'll always be able to say you knew her before she got famous."

"That's right," Sebastian says. Chris wants to ask him more – if he's really always at Em's place on the nights when he doesn't stay here, if that's how it is between them; if he wants to mess around just to see how it goes – but instead he follows Sebastian out to the balcony and they talk about their dumb jobs instead. Soon enough, Sebastian has him laughing about some mishap that ended in him burning about three dozen pastries, and Chris has mostly forgotten about wanting to fuck him.

Mostly. Chris watches his ass when they head back inside, but whatever, he’s allowed to look.

*

Over the next week or two, Chris goes out with Crista a couple of times, but aside from some good sex and a long conversation about if the Beatles had started out during their generation, nothing really comes from it.

The night they decide to call it off, Chris texts Mackie and Scarlett to see if they want to hit up a new bar with him, but they both pretend like they're too good for him. He texts Sebastian, too, but he doesn't get an answer, so Chris heads to the bar anyway, figuring maybe he'll make some friends who don't ignore his texts.

He tries to keep his drinking to a minimum, but there's a guy at the other end of the counter who keeps checking him out, and it's been a while since Chris did anything with a guy so he needs to get his nerve up. He invites himself into the guy's space, orders them both three shots each, and soon enough he's got his tongue down the guy's throat and his hands in his hair.

"Let me fuck you," Chris says into the guy's ear, loud enough to hear over the music.

"Not here," the guy says. He's kind of small and pretty; Chris is fairly certain he's going to pick this guy up and fuck him against a wall before the night's over, and he reaches between Chris's legs to brush up against him and Chris groans.

It turns out the guy lives kind of far, so they end up back at Chris's place, where Chris shoves him none too gently toward the bedroom. They don't bother with the bed; Chris only just bothers to get their shirts off and pants undone, grab a condom and some lube before he's shoving the guy against the wall, prepping him quick before he's pounding into him.

They're loud; there's no denying it. Chris has always been enthusiastic, and the guy is pretty vocal, especially when Chris reaches around and starts jerking him off. He comes with his head on the guy's shoulder, and the guy follows not long after with a kind of guttural sound that is nothing like the noise he heard Sebastian make a few nights ago with another girl.

They get dressed, and when Chris follows him out to lock the door behind him, Sebastian's standing in the kitchen, grabbing himself a bottle of water from the fridge. He looks at Chris, then at the guy, and he seems torn between surprise, amusement, and something else Chris can't pinpoint.

"Hey," he says, after Chris sees the guy out. Chris is still kind of sweaty, a little drunk and probably gross, but he steps past Sebastian to grab a beer from the fridge.

"Hey," Chris says.

"I'd ask if you had a nice time, but I'll take the panting enthusiasm as a yes," Sebastian says. Chris doesn't have it in him to feel embarrassed, but there's something in Sebastian's tone that makes him pause.

"No complaints," he says. "Hey, did we –" It's late, he knows. Sebastian has to be up in a few hours for work.

Sebastian shrugs. "As far as alarm clocks go, it's not the worst one I've ever heard."

"What can I say?" Chris asks. "I inspire that in people."

Sebastian looks at him, then takes a long drink of water. His face is a little flushed, and Chris wonders if he just got back from somewhere – he doesn't think Sebastian's door was closed when he got in.

"How's Emily doing?" Chris asks. "I haven't seen her in a bit."

"She's all right," Sebastian says. "She started seeing this guitar player, I think his name is Max or Mike or something."

"Oh," Chris says. It's the first time Sebastian's been entirely unattached since he moved in, and he feels something shift.

"So you're not –"

"Nope," Sebastian says. He offers Chris a wry little smile, raises his drink to his lips. "Just me and my hand for the foreseeable future."

"I could help you with that," Chris blurts out, and he's not really kidding, not at all, but Sebastian takes it that way. "I'll keep that in mind," he says.

Chris starts to say, "Hey," but Sebastian sets his bottle down on the counter and starts out of the kitchen. "I've gotta get some sleep, man, and you need a shower. I'll see you when you wake up, all right?"

"Yeah," Chris says. He watches Sebastian go, feeling a little confused, and then he settles on the couch and finds something to watch until he passes out.

*

Chris wakes up to two of his favorite smells in the entire world: weed, and fresh bakery. He opens his eyes, and Sebastian has a box of pastries in one hand, and a loaded pipe in the other.

Chris sits up, and Sebastian smiles at him, that goofy, shy kind of smile that Chris has come to learn means Sebastian is already a little high. He's still wearing his work clothes and there's flour on his shirt, but he smells fucking amazing.

"Wake and bake?" Sebastian asks, offering the pipe, and Chris nods and takes it. Normally he'd say no, but he doesn't have anywhere to be today, and the smell is pretty much irresistible to him.

He scoots over so Sebastian can sit down next to him, and he hands the pipe back. "You know you have a bed, right?" Sebastian asks.

"But you've never delivered me breakfast in bed," Chris says. He reaches for the box of pastries and starts in on a cherry-filled one. "So obviously the couch is the magical place to be."

"Right," Sebastian says. He lets out a cloud of smoke. "It's just day old bakery, man."

"But you made them, right?" Chris asks. He takes the offered pipe back, holding his smoke a little longer this time. "So they're automatically great."

Sebastian gives him a look like he's kind of idiot, but maybe an idiot that he doesn't mind having around. They smoke the bowl until it's empty, then turn the TV on and smoke another, until they're sitting close enough on the couch that Sebastian rests his head on Chris's shoulder.

And, Chris thinks from a long way off, that's kind of new. He doesn't think about it much, though, because he's pretty stoned, so mostly he just sort of pets Sebastian's head while they watch ESPN.

It's nice. Chris hasn't done _nice_ since the early days with Gina, and he knows that's not what this is, but it's good all the same. Pot makes him sleepy, so he drifts in and out for most of the next hour or two. He finally wakes up because he's starving again, and between the two of them they finish off the rest of the pastries. Chris swears he's gained ten pounds since Sebastian moved in.

"So, uh," Sebastian says, licking some cherry off his thumb. "Can I ask you something?"

Chris sort of feels like he knows what's coming, but he nods. "Sure, anything."

"Didn't you say you're not into guys?"

Yep, that's about what Chris figured, after last night. He doesn't like to label himself as anything, and there's no way to explain that even though he's mainly dated girls in the past, sometimes he just – well, Scott would say sometimes he just needs some cock, but Chris isn't sure it's actually that simple.

"I mean," Chris says, shrugging. "There are always exceptions, right?"

"I guess so," Sebastian says. His hair's all fucked up from sleeping on Chris's shoulder for half the afternoon and his eyes are kind of puffy from the weed. Chris still thinks he looks adorable.

"You've never slept with a guy?" Chris asks. Really, he wanted to ask this ages ago, because he's nosy and he kind of thinks the answer has to be yes, but he's just never gotten around to it.

"I never said that," Sebastian says. He's looking straight at Chris, and Chris wants to lean forward, get his mouth on Sebastian's, use some dumb fucking line on him to make that happen.

Chris has had enough sex lately to start to think that this is about more than just being horny. He tries to remind himself that he's still high, and it's a bad idea, but he needs like, a talking to or something.

"Oh," he says. His mouth is dry from all the pot, and he stands up too quickly and feels a little dizzy. He goes to the sink and drinks one glass of water, and then another, and then he heads to his room to find his phone. He can't decide whether to text Mackie or Scarlett, his brother or his mom, so he just sends out the same text to all of them: _Intervention time_.

Scarlett's the first to reply. _I'll kick your ass if you fuck him, Evans._ And then a smiley face, because it's classy.

Scott says, _I am not helping you move again._

His mom says, _One more time and I'll make you move back in with us._

That's enough to set him sober, but the last text from Mackie does a decent job of it, too: _MARDI GRAS, BRO._

Intervention over, Chris decides what he needs most of all is a long, cold shower.

*

Over the next couple of days, it’s kind of like when Sebastian first moved in – they don’t see each other much. Chris pulls longer shifts at the bar, and invites himself over to Mackie’s place for Mario Kart tournaments, and Chris thinks Sebastian might be seeing someone new, because he’s gone most afternoons before Chris wakes up, and when Chris heads out to work he’s usually not home yet.

Chris misses him, in a vague sort of way, but he tries not to think about it too much. He’s got other friends, and he gets that he made it kind of weird between them, maybe – that’s on him.

Still, when Chris wakes up again to the sound of Sebastian fucking someone, he does feel like life is a _little_ unfair.

Instead of jerking off like he wants to, he texts Scarlett, _I think my roommate and I are having a passive–aggressive game to see who can have louder sex._

And Sebastian’s especially loud today, Jesus. Chris needs to invest in some noise-cancelling headphones or something, because –

" _Fuck me_ ," he hears, and it’s not a girl who says it; it’s Sebastian. It’s only right then that Chris realizes Sebastian isn’t with a girl, but with another guy.

He is immediately, breathtakingly hard, and there’s nothing to be done about that but what he does; he gets his cock out and starts stroking himself, hard and fast to match the rhythm Sebastian and whoever seem to be going judging by the sound of the bed creaking. He plays with his balls with his other hand while on the other side of the wall he can hear his roommate moaning, can hear the unmistakable sound of Sebastian getting _fucked_.

He comes before Sebastian even does, the sound of Sebastian saying _fuck me_ echoing in his head.

Afterward, he hits the shower, and when he gets out there’s a reply text from Scarlett. _Stay strong, babe._

 _Thanks_ , he replies, and she texts back, _Sure thing. If you hold out one more week I win the pool!_ With another smiley face.

Chris groans, and he’s about to just get back into bed when there’s a knock on his door. "Yeah?" he says.

Sebastian opens the door, steps inside. Chris feels his mouth opening, and forces himself to close it. Sebastian looks – _Jesus._ His hair’s a mess, shirt rumpled like he just threw it back on, and apparently everyone Sebastian sleeps with has a thing about marking him up.

Chris doesn’t blame them.

"Hey," Sebastian says. He’s staring at Chris, and Chris guesses he should probably throw a shirt on, or something. “I, uh – I made pancakes, if you want.”

For about a second, he thinks about saying no, but his stomach answers for him. "Yeah, man, that sounds great. I’ll be right there."

"Okay." Sebastian smiles at him and then leaves the room. Chris listens for voices while he grabs a shirt and throws it on. He just hears Sebastian, though, quietly humming some little song Chris doesn’t recognize.

When he heads out to the kitchen, Sebastian’s there by himself, piling pancakes onto two plates. There are chocolate chips in the pancakes, because Chris has truly the greatest roommate in the world.

"You," Chris says, coming up behind Sebastian and reaching for his plate, "win all the roommate awards."

Sebastian shakes his head and smiles, which is kind of what Chris was going for, but then he says, "How do you know I’m not just bribing you?"

Chris is too busy shoving half a pancake in his mouth to respond right away, and even when he does, it’s just to make sex noises because the food is _that good_.

He swallows, says, "If this is what you’re bribing me with, I’m in. What’s up?"

Sebastian makes a face. "So, my ex is having a party." He starts cutting up his food, not looking at Chris. "I kind of have to go, because we’re still friends, sort of, but it’s one of those things where I can’t show up alone, you know?"

He looks up then, and he looks so worried about the whole thing that Chris kind of wants to give him a hug. But there’s probably syrup on his hands and that might be weird, so he asks, "So what about your, uh, friend from today?"

Sebastian laughs, that husky three-straight-cigarettes laugh that always makes Chris feel kind of warm. "How do you ask someone whose name you don’t know to go to your ex’s party with you?"

Chris laughs before he can stop himself, and then he’s choking on pancake and Sebastian has to pat him on the back so he can remember what breathing feels like.

"Yeah," Chris says. "I guess that’s not an option."

"Nope," Sebastian agrees.

Chris finishes his second pancake, thinking. He’s not sure it’s a good idea to say yes because he won’t know anyone and it’ll probably be stupid, but at the same time, it’s been a while since he and Sebastian spent much time together, and it’s not like he’s obliged to do anything but show up.

"Sure, man," Chris says. "I can chaperone, if you want."

"You really don’t have to," Sebastian says. "I’ll probably get drunk and embarrass myself, and the fewer witnesses the better –"

"Nah, dude," Chris grins at him, pats him on the shoulder, and he still looks kind of nervous, but he smiles back. "I’m in. If you get too drunk, I can always just carry you home."

Sebastian’s eyes widen. "Oh, god. Please don’t. My pride couldn’t take it."

"What, you don’t think I can?" Chris asks. "I’m strong like a lion."

To prove it, Chris gets in front of Sebastian and lifts him off the ground, and Sebastian says, "I believe you, you fucking freak," in between choked laughter, but Chris isn’t done until he’s got Sebastian thrown over his shoulder like a ragdoll.

"Jesus," Sebastian says. "If you do this to me around my friends, not only will I end you, but I’ll throw up on you." Chris laughs and puts him back down; his face is flushed and his eyes are bright, and he lets out a little breath that makes Chris’s breath hitch.

"Well," Chris says. "I guess you’d just better not get wasted, then."

Sebastian snorts, shakes his head. "I can't make any promises."

*

As it turns out, Chris is kind of a shitty chaperone, at least as far as keeping Sebastian from getting drunk is concerned. It's not his fault that there's a guy handing out Jell-O shots at the door and it turns out they both _love_ Jell-O shots, but they do manage to keep it to a minimum of two each so the idiocy doesn't start too soon.

Chris spends about twenty minutes trying to mingle, but he doesn't know how to talk to theater people, which is what most of Sebastian's friends are. He talks to a pretty girl who looks relatively normal (her hair is blonde, and all one length, and she doesn't start the conversation by asking Chris what his favorite new "piece" at the Met is) for a while, until Sebastian comes back over to him and slings his arm around his shoulder. "Are you making friends?" he asks, and Chris can tell he's had at least two more shots since leaving him. Chris is a truly terrible chaperone.

"Better ones that you," Chris says, winking at the girl. "I already found my new roommate, so go pack your shit."

Sebastian laughs right in his ear, and Chris waves goodbye to the girl as he leads Sebastian away to a free spot on one of the couches. Sebastian plops down heavily, spreading his legs out wide and leaning his head back.

Chris takes the spot next to him, and Sebastian turns to look at him. "I used to live here, you know," he says.

"No shit?" Chris asks. He whistles. It's a nice place – studio apartment, high ceilings, wooden floors. There's a nice view of the skyline from one of the windows, and a balcony big enough to fit a bed on. "Wait, so your ex is…"

"The guy at the door, yeah," Sebastian says. He rubs at his face.

"Is he the one you were yelling at in Romanian?"

"Bingo," Sebastian says.

"So I'm not the only one who sleeps with their roommates, huh?" Chris asks, and Sebastian laughs. It's a little pained, a little drunken, entirely adorable.

"To be fair," Sebastian says. "I was already sleeping with him when I moved in."

"So you guys were pretty serious," Chris says. He's kind of getting, a little more, why he's here – Chris hasn't been in a serious relationship in years, but he'd definitely need moral support to deal with some of his exes again. Or a bodyguard. Chris doesn't have a great track record when it comes to ending things.

"For a while, yeah," Sebastian says. "We decided to stay friends, but the last time I saw him I kind of… threw myself at him, so…"

"Ah," Chris says. This is a kind of phenomena he knows well.

"Yeah."

"Well, you're doing all right this time," Chris points out. They only said hi to the guy for a second, and Sebastian seemed normal – although he guesses it explains why those first two shots went down so fast.

"I had you to protect me," Sebastian teases, then looks a little bit more serious. "And I'm not really… I mean, I've moved on."

"That's good," Chris says. "I'm sure Em helped a lot, right?"

"Yeah," Sebastian says. His head is tilted toward Chris's and he's looking Chris straight in the eyes. "So did you," he says, and Chris kind of wants to lean in closer, but he just ruffles Sebastian's hair and says, "That's because I'm the greatest roommate of all time."

Sebastian snorts, shakes his head. "I'm not sure that's true."

"No, it definitely is. Look it up."

"In what? The roommate hall of fame?"

"No, bitch, Google it. Greatest roommate ever. My picture is the first result."

Sebastian laughs at him and says, "If you're such a great roommate, go get us some more drinks."

And Chris is supposed to be chaperoning or whatever, but he also has a reputation to maintain, so he gets up. It takes him a little longer to grab them some shots than he anticipated, because he gets distracted by some Patriots coverage on one of the TVs, and a game of beer pong going on across the way. By the time he makes it back to Sebastian, he's curled up with a girl, his head on her lap while she plays with his hair.

Chris is incredibly, irrationally jealous for about ten seconds, before he decides to just go with it and hand Sebastian his drink.

"You're my favorite," Sebastian says, grinning up at him. The girl laughs, and introduces herself to Chris. I'm Sandy," she says. "I used to work with this moron."

"Hey, I'm Chris."

"I know," she says.

"See?" Chris asks Sebastian. "I'm famous."

Sandy laughs at him, and then pushes Sebastian off her so she can stand up. "Maybe not in a good way," she tells Chris. "I've gotta get back before my kid starts calling me," she tells Sebastian. She leans down and pecks him on the cheek. "It was good to see you, Baz," she says, and then with a little wave to Chris she's gone.

"Baz?" Chris asks. Sebastian sits up so he can knock back his drink, and winces at the taste. "Old nickname," he says.

"Cute. I like it."

"Yeah, yeah," Sebastian says. He moves over so Chris can sit back down next to him, and then lolls his head onto Chris's shoulder.

"You know, you're not being very sociable," Chris points out.

"Nope."

"You wanna go home?" Chris asks. "I DVR'd _Ace Ventura_."

"You are literally my favorite human," Sebastian says.

"I told you, I'm great."

"Yep," Sebastian says. They stay on the couch for another twenty minutes or so until Chris realizes Sebastian is half asleep on him, so he gets his arm around him and drags him to the door. Sebastian gets a severe case of the giggles during the cab ride home, and insists that the cab driver turn up "Drunk in Love" because he "knows all the words."

He doesn't, but by the time they get back to the apartment, Chris is laughing so hard his eyes are watering and getting inside is less a process of Chris holding up Sebastian than the two of them holding each other up.

They make it as far as the kitchen counter before Chris has to stop and catch his breath; Sebastian has only just stopped shouting "Surfboard!" like it's the only word he knows. His head is on Chris's shoulder but he slowly disengages, until they're standing in front of each other, smiling dumb and drunk and happy.

"Hey," Sebastian says. "Thanks for going with me."

"Any time, man," Chris says. He can't get the stupid look off his face.

Sebastian reaches forward, until his hand is on Chris's chin, his thumb rubbing at what's become a pretty substantial beard over the past few weeks.

"I'm into the beard, by the way," he says, and Chris isn't sure who starts it, he's really not, but then his mouth is on Sebastian's and they're kissing, fast and sloppy, and Sebastian's hand is on his face, pulling him in closer to fix the angle.

It's good. His tongue is in Sebastian's mouth, tasting tequila and vodka and tic tacs, and he gets his hands on Sebastian's hips so he's got him pressed back against the kitchen counter. Sebastian leans back, and Chris is practically fucking his mouth with his tongue, and Sebastian makes this little noise at the back of his throat, this little _moan_ , and Chris pulls back, stumbling as he does.

Fuck.

He's panting, they both are, and Sebastian's eyes are wide, pupils all fucked up, lips red from where Chris's mouth just was.

"So," Chris says. "That was a dumb idea."

Sebastian smirks at him. "You think?" he asks.

What Chris thinks is another thing entirely. What Chris _thinks_ is that he wants to hear Sebastian make that noise again. What he _thinks_ is that he needs some quiet time with his hand.

What he knows is that they shouldn't do this.

"Definitely," Chris says. "We should – get some sleep," he says, catching himself from saying _go to bed_.

Something flickers in Sebastian's expression, and his eyes look a little less bright, but he says, "Sure." He pushes himself off the counter and starts moving past Chris, then stops, looks at Chris for a second.

"But," Sebastian says, "One for the road?" And Chris laughs, but he doesn't pull back when Sebastian leans up and kisses him, a little softer than before.

It's _good_. It is, but Chris doesn't push it any further, just lets it happen, and Sebastian steps away and says, "Good night," and Chris nods and watches him go, not sure what side of "drunk and embarrassing" any of what just happened falls on.

*

_I might have done a dumb thing_ , Chris texts Scarlett first thing in the morning, when he wakes up with the memory of Sebastian's mouth on his.

 _I'm 100% certain you did_ , Scarlett replies right away, because no matter what time of day Chris texts her, she always answers. _But what are we talking here? Spilled some milk, or thought it would be cool to bring dinosaurs back to life?_

 _It **would** be cool to bring dinosaurs back to life_ , Chris texts back. _But more on the level of 'Sebastian and I made out last night.' Whatever category that falls into._

Chris waits for the capslock, but Scarlett's reply is surprisingly civil. _Under the influence, or sober?_

_Definitely under the influence. There were Jell-O shots._

_Everything above waist level?_

_Yes._ Regrettably, Chris thinks, with a look to his morning hard on.

 _Then you're still in the clear_ , Scarlett texts. _You and I have made out drunkenly, and we're still friends._

This is true, but Chris doesn't actively want to fuck Scarlett. Even if she was single, they've just been friends too long for it not to be weird. Plus, Chris is really trying not to sleep exclusively with people in his circle of friends. Really.

 _But I really want to fuck him_ , Chris texts. What he _means_ is, _I really want to hold his hand and go for brunch and throw him up against the wall and adopt a dog with him and make out for hours and maybe introduce him to my mom_ , but Chris hates sending texts that are more than a page long.

 _Sorry, babe_ , Scarlett answers. _That's probably taking it too far._

Chris sighs. He sets his phone down, and decides to read for a bit before facing the rest of the day, but before he picks up his book his phone buzzes again. He figures it's from Mackie, since Scarlett tells him everything, but it's not.

 _Hey_ , Sebastian writes. _We can make this not weird, right?_

Chris thinks about it for a second before deciding yeah, of course they can. Scarlett's right. Chris has had enough meaningless hook ups in his life to know that they can stay, well, meaningless. It's fine.

 _Dude_ , Chris texts back, because he knows Sebastian is home, _how lazy are you?_ And five seconds later, Sebastian shouts across the apartment, "Then quit jerking off and come watch Jim Carrey be awesome with me, asshole!"

Sebastian has kind of an unhealthy obsession with Jim Carrey. It's a thing. Chris gets out of bed and heads into the living room. "Hey, man," he says, "At least I'm not jerking off _while_ watching Jim Carrey."

Sebastian throws the remote at him, and just like that they're normal. They watch all of _Pet Detective_ , and then _The Mask_ , and Sebastian tries to con him into _Eternal Sunshine_ , but the last time he saw it Chris embarrassed himself in front of Mackie by bawling his eyes out over it, so. Not today.

They get stoned, order a pizza, and watch more TV until they both pass out on the couch, Chris's head on Sebastian's shoulder.

*

When Chris walks into the kitchen a few days later, the refrigerator is already open and someone's ass is sticking out from it. At first he's surprised that one of Sebastian's random hook-ups is actually staying for breakfast (well, lunch, since it's two in the afternoon), but then Chris realizes he recognizes that ass.

"Em," he says, grinning. Emily squeaks in surprise, then straightens up so she can look at Chris. Her hair's shorter than the last time he saw her, a darker shade of brown, and when she walks over to give him a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug, she smells amazing.

"How's the rockstar life?" he asks her, and she laughs. She looks really happy, eyes all lit up. "I mean, I sleep on a bus most nights and I know all the words to the first Motley Crüe album thanks to the dumb boys I play with, but other than that it's great."

"Good," Chris says. "I missed you around here."

Em returns to the fridge, where she finds an apple under a couple days' worth of takeout. "I'm still not going to fuck you, Evans," she says.

Chris half laughs, half chokes, and Em giggles in her singsong way as she rinses off the apple at the sink.

"Speaking of which, are you two…" Em looks at him, waiting for him to finish the sentence, but when he doesn't, she says, "Not a chance, sweetie. I slept on your couch."

"Oh." Chris doesn't know if it's relief he's feeling or what.

"Which, by the way," Em adds. "She takes a bit of her apple, chews, swallows. "You guys need to stop getting high on that couch. It's like it's made of weed."

"Could we worse," Chris teases, raising an eyebrow.

"You're completely disgusting," Emily informs him with a smile. She nudges his leg with her feet. "So, what's up? No long suffering man or lady in your life these days?"

"Chris is too busy fucking half the neighborhood for any of that." Chris turns to see Sebastian coming out of his bedroom, hair still wet from the shower. He's wearing one of his collection of tight t shirts that makes Chris want to throw himself off the balcony, this time an _Abbey Road_ one.

"Hey," Chris says. He means to come up with a comeback, but he's too busy staring at a drop of water that runs down Sebastian's neck and under his collar, so it's more of a greeting than anything else.

Sebastian kisses Emily's cheek and smirks at Chris. "I suppose you can count me in the long suffering category, though," he adds.

"Whatever," Chris says. "I'm the best roommate you've ever had."

"Oh, wow," Emily says. "Those are some big words." But Sebastian doesn't deny it, just starts up the coffee pot and chats with Emily about her next gig.

"It's here in the city," Em says. "That dive off of Lexington, with the weird horse statue in front?" She snags the first cup of coffee Sebastian pours and says, "You're obligated to come, of course, because I went to all of your shitty recitals and you owe me big."

"Jesus, Em, that was twelve years ago –" he starts, but Em brushes him off and looks at Chris.

"You're invited, too, but only if you shave that fucking beard," she says.

Chris rubs at his face, mouth open in shock. "Hey," Sebastian says. "I think it looks good."

"You _would_ ," Emily says, and a look passes between them that Chris can't quite interpret, but which ends with Emily turning back to Chris and saying, "Fine, you can come, but don't be surprised when security tries to check for birds in that thing."

"Wow," Chris laughs. "Just for that, I'm gonna be shouting _Freebird_ at you guys after every song."

"Don't," Emily says, making a face. "These guys would actually play it." She sets down her coffee and says, "Okay, kids, time to find the rest of my band. Eight o'clock tonight, okay?" They nod, and Emily kisses Sebastian's cheek and mutters something that Chris can't hear, then rubs Chris's beard "for good luck." She grabs her bag and heads out the door, and they can hear her humming _Freebird_ down the hallway.

Chris looks back over at Sebastian, who sips at his coffee and smiles tiredly at him. "Piano recitals?" Chris asks.

"I was a child prodigy," Sebastian deadpans. "Didn't I tell you?"

"With like, a little recital outfit and everything?" Chris asks, and Sebastian glares at him but says, "Yes."

"Oh, _man_ ," Chris says. "Tell me there are pictures."

"I'm sure there are. My mom's a music teacher, she was there."

"I'm calling her immediately," Chris says, picking up his phone. "What's her number?"

"Fuck off," Sebastian says, laughing.

"Dude, _language_ ," Chris says. "I _hope_ you don't kiss her with that mouth."

Sebastian shakes his head. He finishes his coffee and says, "I'll look into it, man."

"That's all I ask."

"So, look, you don't really have to go to this thing tonight, if you have other plans or whatever. I mean, Em won't mind." He says it all in a rush while he rinses out his cup, not looking at Chris.

"Do you not want me to go?" Chris asks.

Sebastian turns the water off and shakes his hands dry. "It's not that," he says. "Just, I don't want to waste your time, and…"

"Hey," Chris says. Sebastian looks at him. "I'm going, and we're going to get drunk and embarrass Emily in front of all her cool rockstar friends because she's such a beard hater."

Sebastian smiles, that small quirk of the lips that Chris always aspires to make bigger. "They're really not that cool," Sebastian warns him.

"Doesn't matter. My beard craves vengeance. It'll be good."

*

Actually, it kind of sucks. Emily has some serious pipes, but her band remembers to play a song in tune about once every fifteen minutes. Still, true to his word, Chris shouts for _Freebird_ after every song, because he's a jackass, and Emily flips him off before smiling sweetly at the crowd and inviting them to buy Chris more drinks.

By the time the band's set is over, Chris is completely plowed from free booze, and it takes both Emily and Sebastian to get him onto the nearest barstool to sit for a while.

Because Sebastian is a great friend, he kept it to one drink, so he makes it his job to watch over Chris for the rest of the night. Chris appreciates this, even when it means Sebastian sends away pretty girl after pretty girl who tries to hit on him.

"God, you're an asshole," Emily comments. "It's my night, but these people are practically asking you to sign their tits."

"Aww, Em," Chris says. There are two of her, sometimes, but they both look gorgeous right now, hair all wild and face glistening from dancing around the stage like a cheetah on ecstasy. "You can sign _my_ boobs if you want."

"Thanks, sweetie," Em says. She pats him on the back and he nearly keels over; Sebastian grabs him and sets him upright again. Sebastian smells _fantastic._

"Thanks," Sebastian says, because Chris apparently said that aloud. Emily's giggling and Sebastian's hand is still on his shoulder to keep him steady. Chris sniffs at him again, gets his face in the crook of Sebastian's neck, rubbing his beard against his skin. "Jesus," Sebastian says, laughing shakily. "Cut it out, man, that tickles."

Chris rubs against him one more time and then pulls back, laughing. "Sorry," he says. He looks over at Emily, who's sort of staring at them like she wants to say something. Chris's mouth works 38 miles per hour when he's drunk, though, so he doesn't wait for that, just says, "You were great, Em. Like, totally amazing. A goddess. Wasn't she amazing?" he asks Sebastian. A very distant part of him knows his voice is too loud, but he can't get a hold on his volume.

"The best," Sebastian agrees, leaning over to kiss Em on the top of her head. She beams at him and Chris, then stands up to do a little bow.

"Well, kids," she says. "This goddess has a bus to catch to Philly, so I'll leave you to it." She touches Chris on the shoulder. "Get home safe, okay?" she asks, and Chris nods, pulls her down for a kiss on the cheek that nearly lands her in his lap.

"Jackass," she says, but she's laughing. Then she stands up and pulls Sebastian in for a hug. "Anything you need, okay?" she asks him, and Chris sees Sebastian nod. "You just call me." She pulls back and adds, "Hey, my friend Milo's single, if you…" but Sebastian makes a face.

"All right," Em says. "Let me know. Be good, guys, okay?"

They both nod, and wish her luck, and then Sebastian puts his hand on Chris's shoulder again. "Think you can make it out the door without collapsing?" he asks.

"For you, I'll try," Chris promises, and he lets Sebastian guide him to his feet. They make it, slowly, across the bar and outside, and the fresh air does Chris a world of good. He's only seeing one of everything now, and he straightens himself up a bit so Sebastian doesn't have to hold on to so much of him.

"What was Em saying about her friend?" Chris asks while they wait for a cab.

"Oh," Sebastian says. "It's just this guy she knows, she's always saying we'd be good together, but one of us is usually with someone else, so…"

"So why don't you go for it?" Chris asks. It's hard to look at Sebastian with the way they're standing, but he can tell by the way Sebastian straightens up that he's less comfortable than he was ten seconds ago.

"I'm not really…" Sebastian starts, but he trails off and then there's a cab and the process of getting Chris _in_ the cab without anyone falling onto the curb, and it's such a trying experience that Chris dozes off, mostly, until they're home, using Sebastian's shoulder as a pillow. He'd feel bad, except he can feel Sebastian's hands in his hair, and that feels – really good.

When they reach their building, Sebastian gives his hair a little tug to get him moving, and Chris hopes he didn't drool on Sebastian or something. They stumble up three flights of stairs because even drunk, Chris isn't big on elevators.

Inside, Sebastian deposits Chris on his bed, leaves, and then comes back with a big glass of water. "I know you think you're invincible," Sebastian says, "But you're gonna need this."

"Not invincible," Chris says, taking the glass. He immediately spills some of it on his shirt, but he gulps most of the rest down. "Just stronger than you."

"Obviously," Sebastian says, laughing at him. He starts to go, but Chris says, "You're not really what?" and Sebastian stops, turns back to look at him.

"You okay there?" Sebastian asks him. He steps a little closer, takes the glass and sets it on the nightstand. Chris has to tilt his head up a bit to look at him, and he knows he's still a little dazed and very drunk, but he clarifies, "When I asked you why you don't ask out that guy. You said you're…"

"Oh," Sebastian says. He gets quiet, so quiet Chris isn't sure he'll get an answer. "I just… I don't know if I could get into something like that right now, you know?"

Chris nods; he's been dodging meaningful relationships for a while, preferring the convenience of falling in with whoever comes along, not fighting when they decide to leave. "Still," Chris says. He reaches out, tugs at Sebastian's hand. His skin is warm and soft, and Chris hears him draw a breath. "It's worth a shot, right? You deserve to be happy."

Sebastian looks at him for a long time. Then he smiles, small but there all the same, and says, "I'm all right, man, I promise." He pulls his hand away from Chris, gently, but claps him on the shoulder once before saying, "Get some sleep, okay? You're gonna need it."

Chris nods again, even though he wants to tell Sebastian not to go yet. He reaches out, meaning to just tug Sebastian toward him, but he's too drunk to know his own strength and he ends up pulling Sebastian half on top of him instead.

"Oops," Chris says. His face is inches from Sebastian's, and this close he can see the bits of stubble on Sebastian's cheeks, how wide his eyes are, how his mouth opens for a second in surprise. Sebastian starts to use Chris's shoulders as leverage to push himself back up, but Chris gets his hand on the back of Sebastian's neck and holds him there a second.

"Chris," Sebastian says, and Chris really likes the way he says his name. "Hey," Chris says. He grins up at him, and Sebastian smiles back, but it's uneasy and Chris drops his hand.

"Not like this, man, all right?" Sebastian asks, and Chris nods, but still leans up and kisses Sebastian, just once, on the corner of his mouth. Then he flops back down, exhausted, and Sebastian climbs off of him.

"I'll get you some aspirin," Sebastian tells him, and Chris says, "Thanks," but he's already asleep before Sebastian gets back.

*

It's a warm, sunny afternoon, and Chris is having coffee with Scarlett while he tries to piece together the previous night. Scarlett keeps throwing pieces of blueberry scone at him and calling him an idiot, which is pretty much par for the course on any of their coffee dates.

"That's it," she says. "I'm revoking your alcohol privileges until you get your shit together, Evans."

Right now, with the sun beating down on him and nausea still an on and off thing, Chris doesn't care if he never sees another drink again, but he knows that will change. "You can't blame alcohol for me being a dumbass," Chris argues.

"No, sweetie," Scarlett says. "You do that just fine on your own."

Chris groans, and puts his head on the table. The cool metal feels good on his head, and entirely non-judgmental. Scarlett sprinkles some crumbs on him just because she can and says, "I'd offer to set you up with someone to help with the sexual frustration, but you've pretty much screwed over or screwed most of the people I know."

"God," Chris says. "Why are you friends with me?"

Scarlett pats him on the head. "Because you're a good conversation piece when my parents start criticizing my life choices," she says. Chris sits back up to glare at her, and she adds, "And because I love you, even if you are the dumbest person I know."

"Thanks," Chris says. He slurps down some of his iced coffee, which might be too sweet even for him.

Scarlett nods, and looks at him for a while before saying, "Don't tell Mackie I said this, but, um…" she looks around like there might be spies watching, or something."I think you should go for this."

Chris opens his mouth, but Scarlett holds up a hand. "I know what I said. None of us want to help you move again, and that whole punk phase you went through with Jackie was – disturbing." She sighs. "But I think you might actually _like_ this guy, and even if you just want to sleep with him, well, you might as well get it out of your system."

Chris stares at her for a bit. Really, he's spent so much time lately actively trying _not_ to jump his roommate that being presented with the alternative, especially by Scarlett, is – bizarre.

It's not like his friends' warnings have been the only thing keeping him in line. He doesn't want another roommate, either. But sometimes he think this time around could, maybe, be different.

He takes another sip of his coffee, and then asks, "So what if he turns me down?"

"Then he turns you down," Scarlett says. "But at least then you know, one way or another – _when you're both sober_ ," she stipulates.

"Yeah," Chris says. Scarlett smiles at him with something resembling sympathy, then reaches across the table and pats his cheek. "Why don't you shave this fucking thing off first, hobo?" she asks. "You might have a better chance."

"No way," Chris says, laughing. "He told me he likes it."

Scarlett looks at him in disbelief, but lets it drop, and makes Chris buy her another coffee for inflicting all his manpain on her otherwise lovely afternoon. They spend the rest of the time talking about the latest stories from her job as a singing waitress, and after a bit of pestering Scarlett treats him to a little bit of the latest Tom Waits cover she's working on. Other people in the coffee shop stare, but Scarlett doesn't give a shit, and that's pretty much why Chris adores her.

Chris walks Scarlett back to her place and she gives him a hug, which he wasn't expecting. "What was that for?" he asks when she lets him go.

"Just good luck," Scarlett says. "I'm kind of magic that way."

"Right, I almost forgot." He smiles at her and kisses her on the cheek, and she makes a face when his beard scratches her. "Seriously, if he's into that, you two deserve each other."

"I haven't even decided if I'm gonna do anything yet," Chris protests, but it's a lie and they both know it. It's stupid not to at least see, and the worst that might happen is a kick to his pride.

And after years of being friends with Scarlett and Mackie, Chris is pretty much used to that, anyhow.

*

On the way back to the apartment, Chris works up a whole game plan for what he's going to say. He works out some pretty compelling arguments for why he and Sebastian should date, or hook up, or whatever. On a scale of idiocy ranging from 1 to 10, Chris is fairly sure that he's only banking a 7 this time.

But then he gets home, and the apartment's empty. So Chris calls his brother, calls his mom, catches up on the latest family news. He watches TV, fucks around online, eats two bowls of Fruity Pebbles, and tries to find a new movie on Netflix that he hasn't seen 27 times. He writes half a text to Sebastian but thinks better of it and loses his phone to the couch cushion.

When Sebastian's still not home by 8 and Chris's anxiety is at floor to ceiling levels, he decides that technically, smoking a bowl is not the same thing is drinking, so he does that.

He wakes up hours later on the couch, with a crick in his neck, the TV still on, and Sebastian standing over him.

"Hey," Sebastian says. Chris blinks to get him into focus; he slept with his contacts in, and now they've gone all dry.

"Hey," Chris says. His throat feels scratchy from the smoke, and he clears it. "What time is it?"

"Kinda late," Sebastian says. "I texted you a few hours ago, but when you didn't answer I figured you were out."

"Nah, I –" _was waiting for you_ sounds ridiculous, so Chris settles for, "decided to take it easy." He sits up, looks Sebastian up and down. He's wearing that gray shirt that's sort of see through, and the pair of jeans that make Chris want to kill himself. He smells good, like cologne and wine and a little bit of smoke.

"You all right?" Sebastian asks, probably because Chris has been staring at him for the last two minutes.

"Yeah," Chris says. "Just kinda stoned still, I guess."

"All right," Sebastian says. He sits down next to Chris on the couch, and reaches toward the coffee table for the pipe. "I'll catch up." 

"No, wait," Chris says. He reaches for Sebastian's wrist, and Sebastian looks at him like he might be a freak, but sits back. "I wanted to, uh –"

"Dude, what is it?" Sebastian asks, when Chris still can't manage to get out one full sentence in English.

Fuck it. He'll try again tomorrow. "Nothing, man. What'd you get up to tonight, anyway?"

Sebastian sighs, leaning back against the couch and shutting his eyes. "I went out with that guy Milo, the one I told you about?"

It might just be left over from his anxiety earlier, but Chris kind of feels like someone punched him in the chest. "Oh," he says. "How, uh – how was that?"

Sebastian opens his eyes again, looks over at him. "It was fine, I guess. He's a nice guy. Owns his own business, has a car that runs. He's a real adult, you know?"

"Man," Chris says. "What's that like?"

"I have no idea," Sebastian says. "I mean, I just had to Google what a 401k actually is."

Chris laughs, and Sebastian smiles back at him. "So are you gonna leave me and go off and have three kids with him?"

"And a dog," Sebastian says. "Don't forget the dog."

"Oh, yeah, without the dog it's a deal breaker."

"Totally," Sebastian agrees.

"Seriously, though, are you gonna call him or whatever?"

Sebastian shrugs, and his shoulder bumps Chris. "I don't know, man."

"Why not?" Chris asks.

Sebastian looks at him for a while. They're sitting close, and Chris is still a little stoned, but when Sebastian says, "Come on, you know why not," Chris thinks that yeah, he kind of does.

Chris takes a deep breath, and tilts his head forward. Sebastian's eyes widen, but he doesn't pull back when Chris cups his face in his hand and kisses him. He takes it easy, even though he wants everything at once, even though he's been thinking about this all night.

He moves slow, just holding Sebastian there until Sebastian kisses back, his mouth opening a little against Chris's. He shifts, and Chris feels his hand on his shoulder, then on his cheek, rubbing against his beard.

Sebastian pulls back, slowly. They're still so close together Chris has to go a bit cross-eyed to see him. "Hey," Sebastian says. He licks his lips, and Chris wants to kiss him again.

"Hey," Chris answers. He runs his hand through Sebastian's hair, but Sebastian starts to pull back.

"Come on, you know we shouldn't," Sebastian says.

Chris means to nod, let him go, but as Sebastian starts to stand up, he asks, "Why not?"

Sebastian looks down at him. He's standing up straight, looking tense where seconds ago he looked at ease. "What's the longest you've been with someone, man?" he asks.

"I don't know," Chris says. He thinks about it: Gina, Jackie, Teresa, Lucy – all the serious relationships. "A couple months, I guess."

"Right," Sebastian says. "I was with my ex for almost three years, but aside from that, I'd say it's about the same for me. We'd be a mess."

Chris shakes his head, reaches for Sebastian's wrist. "So it doesn't have to be anything big," he says. "We could just –"

"Mess around?" Sebastian finishes for him.

"Yeah," Chris says. "I mean, I really want…" He licks his lips. Sebastian's staring at him, his eyes gone a bit dark. "What do you want?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

Chris looks him in the eye, says, "I want to fuck you. I mean I really –"

Sebastian reaches forward, puts his hand over Chris's mouth. "Just shut up, okay?" he asks, and Chris nods. Sebastian lets out a breath, and Chris waits for what feels like forever, but considering the passage of time while stoned might only be a couple of seconds.

Then Sebastian pulls his hand away, and he drops to his knees. "Oh, fuck," Chris says. Sebastian pushes his legs apart, rubs his hands over Chris's thighs. Chris has been half hard since he kissed Sebastian, but that gets him right to full-on, and Sebastian's working on his jeans, pulling at the buttons and zippers.

He stops once Chris's pants are off, once his cock is out, hard and already dripping with precome. Sebastian licks his lips and Chris stares at him, waiting, like they both know that drunken make-outs are one thing, but this pushes whatever this is right over the line.

Chris says, "Please," and Sebastian looks up at him, then leans forward and opens his mouth around Chris's cock. " _Fuck_ ," Chris says again, and he has to stop himself from bucking up into Sebastian's mouth right away, has to remind himself to take it easy.

Sebastian licks and sucks at the head of his cock, taking his time. His mouth is warm and wet and as he moves down the shaft he hums a little, sending vibrations all over that make Chris shudder and moan. " _Jesus_ ," Chris says, and Sebastian looks up at him, his mouth full of Chris's cock, precome on his lips, and he looks fucking filthy and Chris thinks this is a bad time to say _I think I love you_ so he settles for moaning again.

He grabs Chris's hand and guides it to his head, and Chris takes it as permission to get his hands in his hair – soft, at first, but when Sebastian starts to quicken his pace as he moves up and down Chris's cock, Chris tugs a little tighter, groans a little louder. The sounds coming from Sebastian are wet and more than a little obscene, and Chris can't get enough.

"Fuck," he babbles. "Wanna fuck you so bad, man, wanna suck you off, wanna – oh," he says, because Sebastian's got his hand on his balls, cradling him as he moves even faster, and Chris can feel his cock at the back of Sebastian's throat and Jesus, he can't take it anymore. He comes hard, with just enough time to tug at Sebastian's hair in warning.

Sebastian doesn't pull back. He swallows Chris down until there's nothing left, and then he pulls back and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

And Chris realizes, with a sinking feeling, that they might have just made a huge mistake, because he's totally fucking gone for him.

 _Fuck_.

He stares at Sebastian for a long time, catching his breath, before he says, "Get up here, let me –" but Sebastian shakes his head. "I'm all right," Sebastian says. He stands up, and Chris can see his dick tenting his jeans, and he wants to touch him, taste him, wants to do everything Sebastian did for him and more.

"You're amazing," Chris tells him, and he means it, but not just for that.

Sebastian laughs at him, puts his hand on Chris's cheek and tilts his head up toward him. "And you're high. You gonna sleep on the couch tonight, or should I tuck you in again?"

"Nah," Chris says. He pushes himself up, pulling his jeans back on, and Sebastian takes a step back. He touches Sebastian's stomach, just above his waist and says, "You should really let me do something about that."

"I'm okay," Sebastian says again, but he's looking over Chris's shoulder, not at him.

"Are _we_ okay?" Chris asks. As good as he feels, he can't help thinking he just fucked something up.

"We're fine," Sebastian says. He's still not really looking at Chris, though, and it's making Chris's chest hurt.

"Do you have to work tomorrow morning?" Chris asks.

"Not until 6," Sebastian says. "Late start, I guess. I'll probably still be up by four, though. Internal body clock." He grimaces.

"So wake me up," Chris says. "We'll find some shitty diner and go get breakfast."

Sebastian looks like he's going to say no, so Chris takes a step back so they're not touching anymore. "Come on," he says. "I owe you about a thousand breakfasts."

Sebastian smiles at him. It's small, and shy, but it's enough for Chris to work with. "I really haven't been here long enough for that."

"Yeah, you have," Chris says. He wants to kiss Sebastian again, but he settles for gently bumping his shoulder against his as he passes him by on the way to his room. "I mean it, man. Breakfast. Wake me up."

"It's gonna be crazy early," Sebastian calls after him.

"I'll live."

*

"Jesus," Sebastian says. "It's four o'clock in the morning, how the fuck can you eat like that?"

Chris looks down at his plate. There's kind of a lot on it, sure: eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles topped with whip cream and a side of hash browns. But he's still eyeing up Sebastian's plate, because he's barely touched his French toast.

"Hey, I'm a growing boy," Chris says.

Sebastian stares at him. "You're 26, dude."

"Whatever," Chris says. He shoves more food in his mouth, and Sebastian shakes his head at him, but he still kind of smiles at Chris like maybe he's a moron but he doesn't mind.

"What are you doing after work today?" Chris asks, adding more sugar to his coffee.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows. "Taking a really long nap," he says. "Then I don't know. Why?"

Chris grins at him. "'Cause I wanna hang out," he says.

Sebastian looks down at his coffee. "Look, Chris," he says. "It's like you said before. Last night was a dumb idea. We just shouldn't."

"Oh," Chris says. He feels like the air goes out of him. "I mean, I thought…" He's not sure what he thought. Sebastian's right, maybe, but that doesn't mean Chris wanted them to _stop_. More than that, he wants –

"I mean, we got it out of our systems, right?" Sebastian asks. Chris opens his mouth, shuts it. That's not what this was about, and part of him feels like Sebastian knows that, but Chris knows he's the fucking meatball who fucked this up by not saying what he needed to say last night.

"Yeah," he lies. "Yeah, I guess we did."

Sebastian nods like that's the end of it, and Chris pays the check, and they walk over to Sebastian's work. "You really didn't have to come with," Sebastian says. He stands in front of the door, keys in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other. The sun is just coming up behind them, and Chris can see the circles under his eyes, the stubble on his cheeks.

Chris thinks he's fucking beautiful.

"I know," Chris says. "But someone's gotta protect you from all the creeps that come out at night, right?"

"You're a real hero, Evans," Sebastian says. He stubs his cigarette out and smiles at Chris. "Thanks for breakfast," he says.

"Hey, anytime. Like I said, I owe you about a million more."

"Oh, it's a million now?" Sebastian asks. He shakes his head. "You don't owe me anything, Chris."

"I do," Chris says. He steps forward, then steps back, changing his mind. He has to do this right, and now's not the time, when it's six in the goddamn morning and neither of them slept much and Sebastian has to go to work.

Sebastian unlocks the door, and Chris turns to go. "I'll see you later, all right?" Chris asks.

"Yeah," Sebastian says. "Of course."

Chris heads home, and even though he's exhausted, he's up for another hour at least, just sitting in bed thinking through everything. Scarlett would say it's the first time he's done that at all, but it's too early to text her for advice, even though he knows she'd answer, and anyway, this is something he has to figure out himself.

Still, he types out a text to Scarlett before he falls asleep, just in case: _Get your couch ready, I might need it._ He spends about three minutes looking for the emoji that conveys hopeful bordering on anxiety bordering on nausea, but there isn't one, so he just sends the text and goes to sleep.

*

" _Fuck_ ," Chris says, for about the thirty-seventh time in five minutes. He runs his hand under cold water to alleviate the burn the stove just gave him, or the burn he just gave himself because he's a fucking idiot.

He shakes the water off his hand and then returns to the stove, where he's trying, pretty unsuccessfully, to cook tacos. Nothing seems right; the meat smells weird and the pot of rice he's got going seems too mushy, and it's just. A disaster.

He swears again when he accidentally topples over a jar of salsa, and then jumps about a foot when he hears Sebastian ask, "What the hell is going on out here?"

Chris turns to look at him. His eyes are puffy from his nap, and there are pillow creases on his face. His hair is messy and he's wearing a shirt that's inside out, boxers, and no socks.

"Careful," Chris warns. "I think there might still be glass in here from the jar of olives I dropped."

"Wow," Sebastian says. He yawns, surveying the damage that is their once relatively clean kitchen. "You're a mess."

"Yeah," Chris says. "Sorry." He knows he should've called his mom, or his sisters, or _Mackie_ , but Sebastian's always cooking for him and he wanted to return the favor.

"You want some help?" Sebastian offers. He grabs a pair of sneakers from the spot by the door and puts them on (they're Chris's, and they're too big for him) before he steps into the kitchen. He picks up a stray olive and a piece of broken glass and tosses them into the trash.

"No," Chris says. "I wanted to do this for you."

"What, wake me up?" Sebastian teases. He pokes at the rice with a spoon, winces, and then looks back at Chris. "What's the occasion?" he asks.

"I just –" Chris sighs, stops, starts again. "Look, man, last night was a mistake."

Sebastian freezes. "I know," he says. "I know it was four in the morning, but we kinda did this already."

"No, I mean – not that. The mistake was the mistake." Sebastian stares at him, so Chris fumbles on. "Last night was great. I mean, you're amazing, and – but that's not the point," he says, because he can tell he's losing Sebastian again.

"So what's the point?" Sebastian asks. He's staring at Chris, and it makes Chris nervous, but he tries again.

"My point is," he says. "Yesterday, I had this – plan. I had it all worked out, because I think you –"

"Chris," Sebastian says. He reaches out, touches Chris's wrist, and Chris leans down a little so their foreheads touch. Chris says, "What I meant to say yesterday is I don't want to just mess around, okay? And I don't think you do, either. I mean maybe I'm reading it wrong, but –"

He doesn't get to finish, because Sebastian tilts his head up and kisses him. It's soft, but sure, nothing quite like the times before. Then he pulls back a little, so he's leaning against the counter. He's smiling, small and shy but amused, too, and Chris knows what he's going to say before he says it. "You're a moron, you know."

"I know," Chris says. He doesn't know much, but the knows _that._

"I've been waiting around for you for _months_ ," Sebastian says.

"Yeah, I kind of –" he starts, then stops. It took him a while to figure it out, that Sebastian's been waiting for him, but not if it's just for some dumb drunken fumblings. And Chris knows that's maybe all _he_ wanted, at first, but it's different now.

He opens his mouth to say all of that, and then the fire alarm interrupts him because the fucking meat he's been trying to cook is burnt to death. Sebastian scrambles onto the counter to reach the fire alarm, and Chris gets the pan off the stove, and Sebastian's laughing at him even while the fire alarm continues screeching at them for a bit.

Sebastian climbs back off the counter, opens a few windows to air out the place, and then comes back to help Chris clean up the mess. They don't talk, but he bumps his hip against Chris's a couple times while they're washing the dishes.

"Sorry, man," Chris says once they've taken care of the mess. "I'm kind of a fuck up."

"I know," Sebastian says, but he's grinning at Chris, fond and happy like Chris is maybe the greatest thing he's ever seen, even if he's a dumbass. "So am I."

Chris starts to argue, but Sebastian touches his cheek, leans up and kisses him again, apparently just because he can. He leans back against the counter and they make out for a while, slow and lazy, until Chris's stomach rumbles and Sebastian pulls away, laughing.

"Come on, I'll make you your favorite," Sebastian says, and he grabs the box of Fruity Pebbles down from the top of the fridge and pours them both a bowl.

"This," Chris says, as he pours milk into each of their bowls, "Is why they're gonna put you on _Master Chef_ someday."

Sebastian rolls his eyes and says, "You're a moron," but Chris knows he means it in a good way, so he doesn't mind.

They finish their cereal, and Chris finds his phone so that he can text Mackie and Scarlett: _On the one hand, Mardi Gras is off. On the other hand, no one has to help me move._

Scarlett texts him back within seconds: _That's all any of us ask, really._ And then, a couple seconds later: _Good job, babe._ With a winking kissy face, because it's classy.


End file.
